Just Because
by MsRaven
Summary: Fluff Warning! When you have no excuses left and you both know it's time...just because. Weir-Sheppard.


**Just Because**

**Summary:** Fluff Warning! When you have no excuses left and you both know it's time…just because. Weir-Sheppard.

**Spoilers:** None, I don't think. But I've only seen up to "The Storm" so anything up to there is really fair game.

**Disclaimers: **Stargate: Atlantis and its characters do not belong to me.

**Author's Note:** A little piece of fluff to welcome in the New Year. Written quickly and only re-read once, so I apologize for any misses. May start a little slow…background and stuff.

The last nurse left the doors to the infirmary open. The doors initially opened and closed automatically like all the other doors in Atlantis (not including the sleeping quarters). But the Ancients were apparently never in a rush to get inside any room in the city - even the infirmary. The door sensors are a little slow. Something that went unnoticed by most of the city with the exception of the medical staff. After the sixth or seventh injury sustained by someone running headlong into a closed door, Beckett was about ready to rip the doors completely out of the wall. Luckily, or unluckily for him, injury number seven was Peter Grodin who spent the next two days reprogramming the doors to open via a touch panel. The infirmary doors now stay open during the day. They are only closed at night to give some peace and quiet to whatever poor sap is stuck in the infirmary overnight.

Tonight, that sap is none other than Major John Sheppard.

John is propped up in a sitting position, with a small bedside lamp creating a small halo around him. The curtain had been partially drawn around his bed to provide him some privacy. All it really did is block his view of the hall and the doors. He knows the doors are open because he heard a group of people go by a few hours ago. It's been quiet since. He's not hooked up to any machines, so the only noise in the otherwise deserted infirmary is the periodic sound of paper scraping against the sheet as he turns pages in his book. Not exactly the way he had planned on spending New Year's Eve.

Elizabeth doesn't make any noise when she walks into the infirmary. John has actually learned (the hard, and often embarrassing, way) that she barely makes any noise when she walks. Even in those damn regulation boots, she has this uncanny ability to walk up behind you without you realizing she's there. Put her in sneakers and Sheppard swears Weir can walk on eggshells without breaking them. She'd put any Army Ranger to shame.

But tonight, with the infirmary doors wide open and his curtain drawn, John knows the exact moment when Elizabeth walks in. He looks up with a smile as she walks around the curtains. She beams back at him and comes around the bed to sit/lean near his right hip.

John finds it funny, if not a little strange, that the progression of their friendship can be measured by how close or far Elizabeth stands next to the infirmary bed. She started off a few feet away from the foot of the bed and slowly worked her way up to stand immediately next the bed, then up to within reach of his hand. It had made him disturbingly happy the day she leaned up against the bed and covered his hand with her own. That was about six months ago and the first time she had done that while he was awake. He'd come to a few times before to find her half asleep in a chair next to the bed, but she had always pulled back her hand quickly, so he pretended not to notice.

Sheppard places his book on the table next to bed, unable to keep himself from taking hold of Elizabeth's hand. She smiles fondly at the book. John had long since finished "War and Peace" and is now onto her copy of "A Tale of Two Cities."

"Party over yet?" John asks.

"It's only 11:45," Elizabeth responds by way of an answer.

"So?"

"So it's New Year's Eve," she says unnecessarily, but squeezes his hand a little to give some measure of comfort.

"Guess they're not done partying it up, then." John doesn't try to hide the bitterness in his voice.

"Don't you want them to enjoy the party?" Elizabeth asks, already half knowing the answer.

"No!" John retorts. "I set up the party so that _I_ could enjoy myself, not them."

Elizabeth can't help but chuckle at John's tone. The pouty little boy look he gives her just makes her laughter worse.

"Glad to see you're feeling my pain," he says with pure sarcasm.

"Hey!" she reminds him. "I'm not the one who came up with the bright idea of climbing the Stargate to put decorations up."

"It's worked before," John says with a shrug. He only realizes his mistake when Elizabeth opens her mouth in shock.

"That's how the chevron got broken last Christmas! You lied right to my face. John Sheppard, how could you –"

"So, what made you come in here anyway?" John interrupts in a lame attempt to change the subject. Elizabeth's eyes narrow, so he knows he'll hear about it later, but drops the lecture for now.

"I noticed that everyone, including Beckett and his staff, were at the party, so I thought I'd see if you were doing okay."

"It's just a bad sprain," John says, not believing a word Elizabeth just said. "You heard Beckett. He just wants me off of it until the swelling goes down…so why are you really here?"

"For this."

In response to his challenge, Elizabeth leans forward and places a soft kiss on John's lips. He responds just as softly, thinking it might shock her a little if he chose to ravish her in the middle of the infirmary. Elizabeth pulls away so that their noses are a few inches apart.

"I thought you said it wasn't midnight?" John asks.

"It's not," she says before giving him another kiss. This one lasts longer than the first one and it takes all of John's strength, and maybe the pain in his ankle, not to pin Elizabeth to the bed below him.

Perhaps sensing his internal struggle, Elizabeth pulls all the way to a sitting position. John can't help but glance at a clock on the wall. 11:55. Elizabeth follows his line of sight and laughs.

"What?" she asks. "Didn't believe me?"

"Just curious," John shrugs.

Elizabeth lets out another laugh as she moves to sit next to John on the bed. He now realizes why she sat to the right of him. He can scoot over just enough to give her room without moving his injured left ankle. They finally settle with Elizabeth's head on John's shoulder with one of his arms behind her back and the other resting on his lap, lightly holding her hand.

"So why tonight? Why now?" John can't help but ask.

"Just…because," is Elizabeth's response.

"Because what?" he prods.

"Because I've run out of excuses not to. Because I've wanted to do it for a while. Because I didn't want you to think it was only due to the New Year. Because..." she pauses and looks up at him. "Because I got tired of waiting for you to make the first move."

John looks down at Elizabeth with a sheepish little grin.

"I planned on it tonight," he says.

"At midnight?" she asks with a teasing glint in her eye.

"Yeah, I know," John admits. "Sounds like a bad romantic movie, doesn't it?"

"No…" Elizabeth says. "It's sweet, actually. A little typical, maybe, but sweet nonetheless."

"And as my sprained ankle testifies, we're not exactly built for typical around here."

Elizabeth laughs and reaches up for another kiss. This time, John deepens it and they're both panting when they finally come up for air. He pulls her close and groans as she starts placing feather-light kisses on his neck.

"God, I wish I wasn't stuck in the infirmary tonight," John says.

"Well," Elizabeth responds between kisses. "That will teach you not to climb anymore Stargates."

_The end._

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This is my take on a "classic" New Year's Eve romantic story. For some reason, I didn't think that John was capable of not ruining a well planned moment to sweep Elizabeth off her feet at the stroke of midnight. Hope you enjoyed the fluff.


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